Fallout: Crescent City

A Robot's Reflection

17

APR/14

“If only I could speak”, Damon thought to himself.” No, that’s not right. If only they could understand me.” The Damage to his verbal processor was very severe. Damon may say one thing, but all that comes out is jibberish non-sense. It’s hard being the smartest and likely most creative mind here in Vault 53 but sounding as intelligent as a toddler would bring down anyone’s spirit, especially those of a super scientist. For now words won’t help Damon, only through action can Damon make a difference.

Then again, that’s how he got into this state, by taking action and using his body as an electrical conduit. But at the time the odds weren’t not in the Parker citizens favor. Their best chance for survival against the enclave hoard was to get everyone in the vault and then to get the vault online, this same vault that acted more like a jail cell to its former inhabitants. If Damon had a spine, a shiver would be running up it right now. Forcing the vaults secondary power generator to course through Damon’s titanium husk was the only way to get the output the vaults integrated pumps needed in order to get the vault drained quickly.

Either way, the place is here and the time is now. A dirty vault filled with rot and mold. There sitting in the corner of the hallway with his monitors and manipulators twisting this way and that, making the robot look like a steel pretzel there’s Damon working diligently to fix himself so he can save them… so he can save them all.